


More Than Just Coffee

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Erik Is Crushing Harder Than A 12-Year-Old Girl, M/M, Mild Smut, Morning After, Nudity, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mutants in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Erik finds out that dating a barista has its perks - especially if said barista likes to serve him freshly brewed coffee in the morning, but won't change his habits just because he has Erik over at his place.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 86





	More Than Just Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkMountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkMountain/gifts).



> Okay so since I apparently identify as a human failure, I wrote this yesterday instead of working on the Big Bang. [ultralarryus](https://ultralarryus.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr talked to me about her barista!Charles art WIP, proceeded to muse about doing a variant of said art with Charles wearing _only_ the apron and then Erik spitting out his drink at the sight - and well, here we are. Beta-ed by Me™.

Erik is already neatly dressed and leafing through the last pages of his morning paper when a steaming cup of... _something_ gets shoved in his face. 

It's coffee. Searing hot, caramel-brown coffee, and it smells heavenly. Wordlessly, Erik takes it from the slightly freckled hand holding it in front of his nose and takes a sip to test if it tastes as good as it looks. 

It does. The rich aroma of the coffee bean seeps into his taste buds, harmonizing with the lush undertones of just the right amount of milk and sugar. Erik just so manages to suppress an enraptured moan. 

“Well?” comes Charles' silk-and-velvet voice from behind him. 

“Well,” answers Erik after he's swallowed, “you've once again outdone yourself. Didn't think that was possible after yesterday's Mocha, but apparently it is.” 

“Why thank you, darling.” The hand appears in his field of vision once again, this time to carefully but insistently push the newspapers Erik is still holding down onto the table. “And does the cook get a kiss?” 

Erik huffs, but obediently lets go of his morning reading material. “I wouldn't call this cooking, really – remember that time you told me about almost burning down the kitchen in your college days? – but since you're asking so nicely...” Just before he turns, he takes a last sip of that heavenly Latte Macchiato, because it really _is_ an experience on its own, just like the man he's about to- 

He's barely laid eyes on Charles before he's choking on that unfortunate mouthful of coffee and spitting it all over the floor. Charles, ever the precautionary type, has already wheeled back a few inches, out of the coffee's trajectory. 

Charles, who is wearing literally nothing. Charles, who is sitting in his wheelchair utterly naked and evidently very unashamed about it. 

Erik thinks he might just have ruined his white dress shirt. Heaving, gasping, coughing still, he tries to get a hold of himself as his eyes rake over the sheer expanse of Charles' freckles in front of him, the milky white temptation of his thighs, the dark stripe of pubes starting at his bellybutton and getting ever-so bolder as it runs down towards- 

It goes without saying that Erik's doing a very bad job of getting a hold of himself. In fact, it seems the sight is stirring something below his _own_ belly button. 

“Unnh,” he utters very eloquently, and Charles is chuckling ere he knows it. 

“What?” he asks. “Did you really think I'd bother with clothes in my own flat if I've got curtains and it's on the top floor? And don't you start thinking I'll change my routines when we've barely been dating a month, dear.” 

Gott, but this man is beautiful. Gorgeous. Whenever did Erik get so lucky? Of course, he's already had his fair share of the wonders of Charles' body, but it's something else entirely to see them in broad daylight than in the half-gloom of his bedroom. 

“It's evident you've never looked into a mirror before, you flatterer,” Charles answers his thoughts, and this time, Erik doesn't even mind that much that a telepath is in his head as he’s speaking – or rather, _thinking_. 

“My ass is nowhere near as great as yours, though,” he finally says when he's scraped his brains back together. 

Charles shrugs, and one of his hands comes to trail along Erik's immaculately clean-shaven cheekbones, then cups his chin in a gentle yet unyielding grasp. “Eye of the beholder,” he murmurs, his own sky-eyes sparking. “And what about my kiss now?” 

Erik doesn't have to be told twice (or rather _thrice_ in this case). He's out of his seat and straddling Charles' lap in no time, pressing their lips together like there's no tomorrow. Charles answers in kind, hotly, his tongue searing when he pries Erik's lips open to lick his way inside, and Erik lets him. Nothing left to do but give in, melt against Charles' hands when they come to grip the sensitive small of his back and tangle in his hair and then slide lower, lower, cup Erik's crotch as his powers take on a life of their own and slide his zipper open- 

  


Fifteen minutes later, they're both sweaty and panting and spent, and Charles' wheelchair is in desperate need of deep-cleaning while Erik is running late. 

Cursing quietly under his breath, he takes a look at the clock over the kitchen counter, then another one out of the window where the sun's risen considerably since Charles offered him that excellent cup of coffee. “I'll be late for my meeting,” he declares matter-of-factly and glances down at the mess they've made of his charcoal slacks and Charles' belly. 

Charles just groans and tightens his octopus hug around Erik's waist. “What idiots schedule a meeting at half past nine, anyway? Don't worry darl, if you get fired because of this – which is already highly unlikely, considering you rank second-highest in the whole company – I can always become your sugar daddy. After all, I'm only taking that gap year as a barista because the students at university have seriously robbed me of my nerve.” 

Erik grins down at him. “In your wet dreams.” 

And yet, he feels no need whatsoever to extract himself from this ridiculous man's embrace and go change into slightly (much more) appropriate clothing. 

“Are you in my head, Charles?” 

“If I could, I would be in there the whole day – and then the whole night,” Charles mumbles against Erik's collarbone. “I've never met anyone as gorgeous as you – or anyone whose handsome exterior matches their handsome thoughts as accurately as yours do.” 

Well. Erik doesn't know what to respond to that. It still feels too surreal, that he might just have found a guy – a creature of perfection, really – who could love him as he is... And it's too early to say that, anyway. But who is he to question fate? 

“I think I'll drink that delicious coffee now,” he tells Charles, “even though it's probably cooled down, and then I'll try to make myself look presentable and be on my way, yes?” 

“Sadly, I can't tie you to my bed and keep you there forever, now can I?” Charles grins, his bed hair now mussed worse than ever, and reluctantly lets his hands fall from Erik's hips. “Be on your way, then. We'll text.” 

Erik nods, and then he decides he has to hurry after all and calls a taxi. There's barely any time left to kiss Charles good-bye when it arrives, before he has to dash out of the door and manipulate the elevator to go faster on its way down. And all while he's desperately trying to tuck in his tie and smooth down his hair, with the cab driver eyeing him dubiously in the rear-view mirror, Erik can't stop thinking about Charles' Latte Macchiato, and Charles' searching hands and Charles' blueblue _blue_ eyes and- 

And oh, Erik is definitely going back for more than just coffee. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are more than appreciated!


End file.
